Dollface Drabbles
by RoseGhostings
Summary: Short little ficlets following the CAndy Dollface AU portrayed in a previous story. No interconnection or plot, really. Feel free to leave a request or two!
1. Sleep

_He was numb and chilled, his whole body stiff and unmoving as he stared on at the substance like rosy ink that flowed and seeped into his clothes, torn and unprotecting like the thinnest of paper. The knife in his hand burned like the coldest of ice, numb and painful as it burned its way into his very core. And yet he did not move, knife clutched in hand and body stilled as if he was truly just a child's play-thing. Stiff and dead as fate would have liked. It was unnatural the way his body could freeze, as if it was vacant of a beating heart and breathing lungs and so much more he dared not dwell on. Shivering and shaking and labored breathing and all natural signs of doing just a deed gone with the wind, cold and biting at flesh exposed to it through tears and absent-minded holes in aged clothing so unnerving in their presence. He was still and he was silent._

 _It was the first shiver that broke this stillness, as fragile as ice and as volatile as water. A shiver so unnatural and biting that he flinched, senses once before clouded with the fog of the situation clearing and sharpening like an image. An image of realization and an image of a horrible deed done in a way he could not place, could not remember._

 _And then he laughed, a small high-pitched giggle both equally as bitter and unnerving in itself as it shattered that frozen stillness like shards of ice disappearing in the biting and bitter wind, breaking and sharpening everything inside of him like the bloody knife he wielded with tired and emotionless eyes like glaciers._

 _That small giggle broke into a laugh, maniacal and unearthly like the body he held together with glue and needles. He cackled into the sky, dark and endless like the deepest sea frozen with something he did not understand and something that he never would. He laughed then, madness seeping through the scars and cracks like blood, finding its way into his heart and fractured being as he faced the space above with such hate and malice as if it was truly a sentient being that despised him and everything he stood for._

 _That grin stayed ever present as those maniacal, crazed wails melted into deep, guttural sobs, the stuttering in his aching chest, undeniable and betraying. He sobbed and he screamed hoarse words that melded together into curses and gruesome threats as hollow and empty as the sky he screamed into._

 _Deep and aching he wailed into the emptiness above, avoiding anything and everything. He would not accept this reality, cold and unnerving as it seeped into his bones like ice destroyed and decayed into something unlike itself. It hurt, it fucking hurt like nothing had before when he forced himself to look upon that body, eyes that once melted the ice that was him now dull and still like stone. They were emotionless, and void of everything he had ever loved about them._

 _He screamed, screamed the man's name through shivers like earthquakes that made his head spin. He screamed until he could no more, body slumping onto his knees and a ground that felt as if it were nothing more than bodiless fog._

 _His body ached, the only grounded he was granted as his chest felt as if it would combust and his throat felt as if it were on fire. Exposed tears like targets to the biting wind and chill that nipped painfully at him like shards of ice. With one last scream, hoarse and painful of the man's name he was gone, swept away in the wind like snow._

 ** _"Andy,"_**

Andy's mind was muddled and muffled when he awoke, running a hand through messy hair when he turned onto his back with eyes hardly open as he tried to process why he was awake at such a late hour. The muffled sobs and whimpers took a minute to be processed before he woke completely, mind slow and hesitant as it took in their source.

He took in the pale blueness of morning seeping through the room that was beginning to reveal the scene before him. Small body curled up next to him turned away and shuddering with sobs he tried his best to keep quiet in the silence of the room. Afraid of hurting and hesitant in his movements, he pushed back empathetic tears that pricked the corners of tired eyes and a lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He swore he would not cry, he refused to do that to him.

He felt so cold, Andy noted, turning onto his side despite himself and tracing shapes onto the other's back, a touch he did not shy away from. "Charles," With closed eyes and an apprehensive breath of the doll's name, the man wrapped warm arms around the other, soft and gentle as he pulled him closer. He didn't react much, but his cries vibrated against Andy's chest, soft and deep and hurting against something Andy didn't dare to ask about. So he held him, face buried in disheveled hair unnaturally red and eternally soft as he closed his eyes with deep breathes and muttered words of assurance and comfort until the cries died down into stuttered breaths laced with curses and soft coughs and hiccups.

The doll turned shifted and turned around, giving Andy a glimpse of rosy cheeks dusted with freckles and the aftermath of crying, ice melted and eyes tired and fearful like Andy had never seen before staring into his own.

Andy ran his fingers through unruly hair, watching the other relax and breathe a shaky sigh that he could not quite place on an emotional scale, but one that relieved him nonetheless.

"I-I fucking _killed_ you, Andy." The voice, gravelly and broken stated with such a disbelieve in those wide eyes that it was hard to believe that the doll had ever done such things. Fear and panic edged his voice, as if he truly feared his virtual deeds would come true.

Andy shushed him then, pulling him closer and letting the doll break and crumble beneath him, rambling and muttering as Andy listened and comforted as best as he could. In these moments, he was helpless. Only able to watch the other fall deep into something he could not understand.

"You didn't, and you _won't_." He whispered to the trembling body in his arms, boiling and freezing all at once, embrace so firm that they nearly melded together.

The words, heart-breaking in tone came then. Rumbling gently against his chest and sending chills down his spine. "How do you know?"

He laughed. A gentle thing that could bring anything back to their senses. "Because, I know you."

They both knew he was coming apart, unwinding slowly but surely like frayed thread as moments like these became more and more frequent and terrifying. Moments when he was able to hold onto the doll and comfort him without issue where beginning to become rare, as he would awake screaming and crying, terrified of dreams he would begin to not tell. Dreams he would hide despite reassurance and dreams that would haunt him.

They both knew he was coming apart, but as Andy held him there, the other slowly beginning to fall back asleep without another word, breaths soft and steadied, he knew he was ready for whatever happened. Ready for the possibility of the day he would snap, ready for the moment that cold metal would meet warm flesh and fate along with pure trust and raw emotion would decide his destiny.

With a small sigh and a sad, tired smile he looked at the doll he held tightly like his life depended on it. If loving him meant something like _that_...

Well hell, it was worth it.


	2. Ill

**A/N: This one is super short, but I liked what I had so far, so I decided to publish it anyways. This chapter is unfinished, and basically just a Sick Fic I don't really plan on continuing without rewriting. What we have so far here is basically just fluffy domestication, so feel free to read what I have. Like I said, I don't plan on continuing this one, but I might rewrite it later on. So, with that said; I hope you enjoy!**

He had always hated domestication, as it never really felt truly _right_ with anyone. But now, as he lay in the bed much too large with him encompassed by warm arms that pull him deeply into a broad chest, his own lent clothes of an oversized graphic t-shirt, faded with time and use, it just felt right. Like they had belonged that way. Warmed by a feeling only sleep can bring, he breathed in the scent of tobacco and spices that wafted from the thin, white-tee-shirt that hung just a bit too loosely on broad shoulders.

He yawned, beginning to wiggle and mutter with a light voice for the man to wake up, as he shamefully could not free himself as his swollen, inconveniently small bladder protested. His body ached and he was freezing, although the temperature of his flushed skin told different.

Shivering, he whimpered quietly when he was sure the man was still asleep, shuffling closer to the man who radiated warmth like he was a parasite. "Andy," He groaned, quiet and soft when he tried to wake him with half-hearted threats and insults.

Then he stilled, taking just one small, peaceful moment to just observe. Andy's hair was disheveled and just as sunny as his eyes he hid with so very long eyelashes and peaceful rest. Very lightly freckled cheeks flushed with the warmth of sleep so very fitting for sun-kissed skin shone like stars to him, the sun that truly befitted the man shining through the glass panes.

He frowned, thinking intently of just how deep of sleep Andy was in before he gave into the urge to feel the soft, warm skin that smelled like bitter soap and pine. He would have stayed in that moment forever if not for the sudden pang to his bladder that made him shudder and poke Andy's cheek prickled with stubble until he woke up.

A flushed freckled face radiating heat with its closeness and crystal blue eyes was what he woke up to, eyes blurry and mind fazed with the fog of a deep sleep. Before the man, still half-asleep, can even mutter a greeting, a voice deep and far too gravelly to come from such a small thing spoke in a hushed voice with lidded eyes, as if afraid to break the calm peacefulness that warmed them both. "Move, asshole. I have to piss."

Andy laughed, burying his face into disheveled hair the color of the sun. "You're so warm though." Andy whined with a grin, pulling the doll closer to him after kissing his all-too-warm forehead. With his head tucked underneath Andy's chin, Chucky squirmed and groaned as another sharp pang hit his full bladder, cursing himself and the way he was squirming so eagerly and truly shamelessly. "Andy, I swear to fucking god I will piss right here and now if you do not let me go." He almost growled, hoping to intimidate a man who simply was not afraid of him.

Andy did let him go, when a short whine and a hitch of breath was let out hesitantly, a sound that truly was his weakness. He really had forgotten how small the dolls body really was, and laughed in a way that made Chucky linger for a second longer than his body would allow. Rushing off with legs weak and shaky movements as his body denied the wakefulness it itself had caused.

He had returned to an empty bed with disheveled sheets and the familiar scent of coffee in the air. Tempted to go back to bed, he sighed and found himself to the kitchen, cursing ice-cold tiles as he jumped into a wooden chair at the table with practiced ease, slowly sipping hot coffee that Andy had made just the way he liked it. "Fuck, thank you." He sighed, eyes drooping and body heavy and flushed with the heat of sleep and drowsiness and something he could not quite place.

Dozing off, chucky was startled by the voice much too loud for him in that moment. "Are you alright?" He jumped, looking hazily into intense eyes that looked on him with such concern.

Spaced out and shivering with a little sound of an 'mhm', it took a while for him to fully register the icy cold hand placed gently on upon his forehead, radiating heat and ache just like the rest of his body. Chucky gave an annoyed little grunt, pushing the hand away with little actual effort and muttering something about Andy needing to 'fuck off' and that he was 'perfectly fine'.


	3. Unwinding

**A/N: If you've ever read my story "Doll Face", this may seem a bit familiar. I liked the concept, so I went for it with a bit of an extension. Hope you enjoy; despite the repetition!**

He was still and empty as he stared into those eyes, smiling as he stayed on his knees. Grinning in a sad, tired way that chilled the doll to the very core.

Why wasn't he begging for his life? Why the hell was he smiling? It angered him. The way that Andy seemed so calm and still. Even as the cold metal bit into his skin and tears fell as the doll stood shakily on untrusting feet, Andy didn't speak and his smile didn't fade. It was _unnerving_ and terrifying in the way he still looked so fucking _loving_ despite Chucky's cruelty.

"Fuck you, I _hate_ you."

Andy laughed then, rumbling in his chest like a sob that spilled past lips and smile bestowed. "No you don't."

He grabbed him by the collar then, teeth all too sharp bared and unnatural, he let out a sound akin to a growl. "Wipe that smile off of your face, dumbass." He snapped, angered and annoyed that the man simply wasn't afraid of him, angered curiosity getting the best of him. "Why aren't you _scared_?"

Nose to nose, Andy's voice was soft when he spoke. "How can I be afraid of someone I love?"

Chucky was silent for a minute, eyes wide and unbelieving, refusing to accept. He let go of Andy, shoving him with as much force as he could conjure up. " _Don't_ -Don't fucking _lie_ to me, asshole!" He spat, knife tightening in his grip as it continued to bite into the man's flesh, just barely drawing blood.

"Why are you shaking then, Charles?" Andy's eyes hardened a bit from their hazed state when he laughed, bitter and biting. "If you hate me so much," Andy placed his hand over the doll's, eyes never leaving his and smile refusing to falter. "Then _do_ it."

He looked at the hand encompassing his own, gentle and reassuring despite the circumstances.

He had the chance, flesh soft and inviting towards the cold metal. One little movement and the man would be dead. And yet.

And yet he did not move, still and world flowing through his fingers tantalizingly slow and preserving the moment like ice, frozen in time.

And so Andy leaned in, eyes fluttering shut like a butterfly's wings when their lips met, cold and warmth melting into each other instantly. He took his hand, intertwining their fingers as his knife fell to the ground with a sharp sound that resonated throughout the small room like an echo.

"F-Fuck" Against warm lips he melted into the touch, tears stinging eyes that shut without any hesitation, compliant to their fate.

They stayed like that until they couldn't breathe, parting with small gasps for the breathe that had been knocked out of them like it hadn't existed in the first place, Andy holding both of the doll's hands in his own. Eyes pleading and sad he looked into those icy depths he adored.

" _Stay_."

With a frustrated grunt Chucky sighed a shaking breath, resting his forehead against Andy's and closed his eyes, face warm and glowing with a flush only Andy could cause. "Yeah, okay.


	4. Tiffany

**A/N: Although I don't usually write Chucky & Tiffany, I got a special request, so here's an exception! Hope you enjoy despite the possible OOC!**

 **Edit: So sorry for the vagueness of this one, I took out quite a lot of requested detail that I didn't really intend to. Hopefully it's alright?**

She lay in that bed next to him, bodies closely warmed and sensitive with a heat that had the other undeniably knocked out and snoring shortly afterwards. It was worrying, really, when he began to mumble and move all too often while he slept, mind far gone from reality and off somewhere she did not dare venture. Wide awake from her worry, she watched him. Face flushed even in the empty, haunting black that surrounded the two, eyebrows drawn in a frown that she traced with gentle fingertips.

This- _this_ in its entirety was not foreign. This was a familiar situation as she took his chilled hands into her own, intertwining fingers that were so very _small_ and horribly _annoying_ and _inconvenient_. But really, none of this mattered as they traced rough scars and stitches with a history she remembered with both fondness and dismay. And yet it seemed to calm him. Body relaxing, and breath steady and slow and frozen with unsaid words that fell on deaf ears. Did they _hurt_? She could not help but wonder, curiosity doing nothing to ease this newfound concern. Did any of him hurt in a _physical_ manner? The thought _alone_ hurt…

Lost in thought, she was pulled out of her peacefully warm haze by the subtle dampness that met her fingers. Pulling back out of pure instinct, she, for lack of a better word, studied him. Watching how long eyelashes twitched and lips formed words she could not make out. He was always so quiet when he cried, like a faint breeze in the midst of an angry storm. Unnatural and unsettling. But that's what they were. _Unnatural_ and purely _unsettling_.

Hand's busy In their calm comfort, she kissed his cheek, lips met with the saltiness that they had expected but still dreaded. He was so tense when she whispered his first name, a thing that had not been said for quite a while and yet something that made those baby blue eyes blink open with such a tender hesitation. God, he looked so _young_ like that, with his eyes sleepy and obscured by hair that she swept away just to see those familiar lights. He looked so young, and yet those eyes looked so very _old_.

"Tiff?"

She didn't know why she smiled then, despite those tears sparkling in his eyes like constellations. She was just happy to hear him, despite the roughness and despite the shakiness his voice held like a burden.

"Hey, baby," Voice soft and hand's gentle, she lay a hand on his cheek, not letting her emotions betray her when he flinched back from the touch. But nonetheless, he relaxed a bit with a name on his lips that she didn't want to confront. A name, a person, who had done this to him. Who had broken everything he once was and made him fragile, but oh so ready to protect that fragility.

And then, before she could actually process what happening, he was sobbing. She had never heard him cry like this before, deep throaty cries that he obviously tried to hold back. But despite his deepest efforts, they were uncontrolled and inconsolable. " _Fuck_ ,"

Tiffany would hold him in moments like these with a quickness and vigor that she had adapted despite him previously pushing her away to protect his wounded pride. And yet despite their practice, her movements were slow and almost _hesitant_ in their own tender way. Bringing him deep and close to her, face pressed into soft hair and a soft body that was equally as imitated and yet so familiar, a perk to their particular inhuman predicament.

His body shook with the effort of holding back sobs and vibrated with his mindless apologies that she shushed wordlessly, fingers tracing shapes onto his back that shuddered along with the rest of him. Like a branch in the wind, ready to snap at any moment and yet so resilient.

"'M sorry." He sighed, quiet and almost bashful as he hid in her hair.

"For what, dolly?" That got a bit of a chuckle out of him, and with a sleepy kiss pressed to her lips, she was met with those enchanting once more.

"Real fucking cute, but you know what." He was smiling, though, despite those words that would seem crass and cruel to anyone else. Anyone that wasn't them. "For-for fucking _everything_."

Explanations nor words in any sense needed to be said with that one word. A word that would grammatically sum things up in a sense, but one that she understood with a depth like the ocean. A sad smile pressed against his forehead was all the words that they needed in that moment, a warm silence replacing what had been the stomach lurching cries of someone so very broken and yet so very amazing to her. And maybe, just maybe it was because she was just as broken. Just as destroyed from what she once was and ever had any chance of being.

"I love you, so, _so_ fucking _much_ , okay?" Words like safe venom spat out with just a gentleness that had her crying and squeezing him just a bit tighter in that moment.

"Oh, _Chucky_."

His laughter was the most beautiful thing to her in that moment, fruitlessly squirming in the tight grip with a grin so wide that he tried to hide it. " _Tiff_ ," He whined, voice almost a growl as it caught in his rocky laughter. " _Stop_ , I can't breathe."

Grinning and laughing like tired idiots at 3 am, she peppered his freckled face with kisses. Nose, eyes, cheeks, and mouths all treated with such a tenderness that had him forgetting everything that was his previous dismay. In that moment, he was- _both_ of them were…

Truly _happy_.


End file.
